The Boys are Back,
For the 45th celebration of men in skin tight nylon pants and over sized shoulder pads, sounds 80’s sexy? Not! These are grown men with an over abundance of testosterone pushing and tackling eachother, it’s a pigskin and wiener Day that’s the fun of the SUPERBOWL. Heck, I don’t even know who’s playin’.
Women take your positions in the kitchen. Get ready to hike over that avocado and bean dip, make a pass thru the living room, hoping your man will catch it and not fumble. You may not recognize this man because today he has turned back into an adolescent. All of his playmates will be over and they are reverting back to their teenhoods right along with him. You may swear you are having a Boy Scout reunion in your living room, only with alcohol. It can be cute to watch (for a minute) until the beer starts-a-flowin’ and the vile language spews out their mouths (make sure the kids are at grandmas house) then, not so cute. May I suggest ear plugs? Sunday will be a long night gals.
The smell of sweat and sausage burps will linger through the air reaching your nostrils and making sure you keep your diet vows for the day. The screaming and growling at eachother will frighten and sicken you at the same time as you give your man that “I will kill you later look”. I’m pretty sure they use this day as an excuse to hug and smack one another on the ass from what I have observed. We will forgive them on Monday for their childish behavior on Superbowl Sunday. We Promise to never never bring it up, unless we need the credit card and they don’t want to give it up, then you can remind them of how hard you worked, cooking, serving and cleaning up crushed in cigarette butts and vomit in your newly installed carpet. When asked no one will admit how that stuff got there.
Ah yes, its Super Bowl Sunday again. I suggest you put on those cute cut off jean shorts and a T-shirt while your serving those cold-ones. Make sure they can read your “TIP’S PLEASE” on the jar, or backside which ever you prefer. Superbowl Party at your house is cheaper than a bar and better than jail. The wife will suffer a Superbowl clean-up hangover but she can handle it, it comes once a year. Just bring ’em more chili and onion wieners and get the hell out of the way before you get tackled yourself.
Happy Superbowling Day